


Stolen Moments

by roguefaerie (samidha)



Series: Reconcilliation (Reaper Jessica Moore) [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (in the background) - Freeform, Dean Has Powers, Domme Jessica Moore, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore Lives, Jessica Moore has Powers, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Mind Sex, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 09:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13655766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: Jess and Dean get a moment of their own.





	Stolen Moments

Often when Dean and Jess get a moment together, they go into the smaller bedroom and just close their eyes, sleeping soundly in each other’s arms. It’s one of the most peaceful things they can get a chance to do.

Technically, Jess is the little spoon, but barely. And when Dean needs it, he lets her be who she needs to be to make sure he gets what he needs, too.

She can undo him with a single kiss, let him unravel before her. She supposes that’s the consequence of their day in the cottage when one kiss had meant so very much.

And so both are sparing with them, not using them as an expression of hunger, but precise, measured.

If she’d thought about it too hard she’d think how on the surface there was nothing measured about Dean, and yet the truth was that this would have been a lie. Because everything was, especially now.

 _Take care of Sammy._ It came with expectations, it always had. Even Dean’s joy was measured out, performative, sometimes. Leaking out when Sam would need some, especiallly.

The bond is still there, of course, nothing that anyone had wanted to part with despite the fact that it always had the potential to cause them to feel too much. And so, their time together was less physical, even with both in the room, and more mental.

It wasn’t that Dean wasn’t hungry--starving--he was. It was just that if Sam was going to be slightly worn around the edges like he was now, Dean couldn’t fall apart. There wasn’t room. 

He couldn’t entirely let go. He couldn’t live in his own pain, or let himself get easily confused.

In short, he had to be together.

Together they moved slowly and were gentle with one another’s tired spirits. Tired was something Jess had learned how to be again, and it wasn’t particularly easy for her.

There was a learning curve to being back from the dead.

And so she did sometimes let Dean be the big spoon, and she slept in his arms, but now, now she knew that Dean needed something else.

“It’s all right, Dean. You can.”

_Can what_ , he asked with his eyes. He knew the answer, but his gaze was wary. 

“You need to relax,” she says, “Not just sleep, but relax. Let me….” 

Oh. Oh, yes. 

The words elicit a soft sigh from Dean and his body lets go, all the hard edges melting away at once, and that’s all the answer she needs. 

He’s already exactly where she needs him to be. 

“Yours,” he says. 

“That’s right,” she says. 

“My angel,” he says, a title for her he never has let go of, despite knowing he could. 

And together they make an evening of it, Dean trying to be as quiet yet expressive as he can, and Jess being careful not to overstep and send him into a tailspin that could threaten if these moments don’t work. If she isn’t careful. Careful with him. Even with the mental flow. 

Theirs is a quiet love of stolen moments and gentle mental pressure, a bit cerebral at times, but then, such is the love they built over those four years and much of it remains the same now. 

When she finally does kiss him, it’s as measured as anything else, and his body knows it is the signal for giving his all, giving up to her, succumbing to the flood. 

She pulls him close, holds him in safety, and allows him to let go of all that he needs to. 


End file.
